A Self Portrait
by PsychoPromQueen7
Summary: Buffy Summers is smart, feisty, cute as hell and perfectly content with life in LA with her father. Everything’s going great for her. That is until mommy dearest decides to go on and marry Patrick Kendal, business man extraordinare bringing his annoying a
1. We'll Always Have Paris

Buffy Summers is smart, feisty, cute as hell and perfectly content with life in LA with her father. Everything's going great for her. That is until mommy dearest decides to go on and marry Patrick Kendal, business man extraordinare bringing his annoying as hell daughter Harmony with him. Buffy's forced to go live in Sunnydale with her new "family" and pretend that everything's just peachy keen. The one thing she wasn't expecting was to find the love of her life…who just happened to be her stepsister's boyfriend.

I blame trashy teen novels…

Buffy Summers blinked blankly at the house before her. The Kendal home. Mommy dearest just to do it didn't she? She had to go and marry fucking Patrick Kendal. Buffy was completely convinced her mother had done it just to make her suffer. There was no other possible logical reason. None at all.

"Come on sweetie," her mother smiled brightly, grabbing Buffy's hand as they started into the door, "I'm sure Patrick will adore you and Harmony and you will click instantly."

Buffy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Yeah right. Instead she just flashed her mother a fake smile. Not that her she actually noticed it was indeed fake.

And there they stood. Patrick and Harmony Kendal were waiting for them in the large, modernly furnished living room. Buffy quickly wondered how her mother could stand to be in the said room. It had harsh, unwelcoming angles and looked like it hadn't been used even once. The whole house was just a house, not a home.

"Well hello," Patrick gave her a large smile that looked well practiced. Asshole. Buffy instantly hated him. So much for her giving him a chance, there was no way in hell.

Harmony looked her over with a snooty expression before giving her a sickeningly sweet smile just like her father. Well not exactly, this one was just plain malicious, "Hi i _Buffy_ </i ."

Translation: Die bitch die.

Taking in the other girl's clearly expensive clothing, Buffy suddenly felt rather self conscious in her form fitted white wife beater with a colorful lace flower down the front that she'd made herself and jeans that had the knees ripped out.

Plastering yet another fake smile on her face Buffy said sweetly, "It's really nice to meet both of you." she paused before continuing, "I'm gonna go get myself settled okay?"

Joyce nodded, "Okay honey, I'll call you when dinner's ready. We can have out very first family dinner together!"

Yippee fucking doo.

Of course Buffy didn't actually voice her opinion; she just nodded back and headed upstairs to the bedroom her new "daddy" had so kindly paid two movers to bring in her boxes of stuff in before she arrived so she wouldn't have lift a finger.

Okay so that wasn't so bad of him but like that made a difference. She still hated him.

Buffy had to hand it to her mother. She had picked out the perfect room for her. Instead of the large room next to Harmony's on the second level that was now designated for Dawnie when she arrived, she'd had Buffy moved into the refinished attic with a large bay window looking over the back yard. It was absolutely perfect for her. She looked around the small, cozy room with a queen sized bed on an antique copper bed frame with a matching vanity and something became very clear. She had a whole lot of work to do.

Her room in LA had been covered in posters and pictures and stickers that had seemed to make the room come to life. This was just…bland. Like she'd said, she had a whole lot of work cut out for her.

She turned too look at the wall around the bay window and smiled. It was perfect. She glanced at a box labeled IMPORTANT STUFF before opening it, thankful that someone had cut the tape open beforehand. She pulled out her paints before turning back to the white wall and taking a deep breath. Buffy untied her precious baby blue silk scarf, given to her by her late grandmother, which had been tied around her wrist and pulled her long honey blonde locks back.

Bring it on.

A meadow. A beautiful colorful meadow just like the one painted on the wall of Le Café de Dollhouse in Paris. Her mother had taken her there when they'd been in Paris. Joyce had wanted her daughter to see all the fine art there. Buffy had never been happier in her life then when she had been wandering around The Louvre as a wide eyed eight year old girl. Her mother had told her you could spend your entire life in that museum and not see everything. Buffy had really wanted to try. She had wanted to see everything, to soak in every drop of the history and culture she could get her eyes on. So now here she was, painting that same meadow on her new bedroom wall.

A slight knock made her jump as the door open and her wicked stepsister sauntered in like she was the queen of the freakin universe. Wicked stepsister indeed.

"Let's get some things straight right now," she started, her voice bitchy as could be, trying to warn Buffy to listen and listen good. The bitch had a lot of nerve, "You don't belong here. I'm not up to sharing my daddy with you so don't even try to suck up to him. Don't even dare to try to talk to me at school because I will ignore you. I mean to make your life a living hell while you're here, just a heads up and most importantly, stay away from my Blondie Bear, he's mine!"

Buffy stared at the ditzy blonde for a moment before speaking, "Are you quite done?"

Harmony huffed and stormed out of the room in return.

Oh living with this girl was just going to be a joy!

This was beyond odd Buffy decided as everyone sat around the large dinning room table, with plates of spaghetti in front of them. They were all eating in complete silence. Okay well Harmony was twirling noodles around her plate on her fork and pretending to be eating while the three other people at the table ate but that wasn't the point. This was so not going to work for Buffy. With dad, it had been Chinese takeout while watching whatever show was TV's big hit at the time. That's what she was used to, not…this, whatever this was.

"So you found your paints I see," her mother finally commented, noting Buffy's paint covered hands,

Buffy smiled brightly, a real smile this time. Any excuse to talk about her art. Both of the Summer's woman shared a passion for the arts. "Yeah, do you remember that adorable little café, The Dollhouse in Paris? You know, the one with the meadows painted onto the brick walls? Well I was looking at the wall around the window up there and decided to make my very own."

Joyce smiled, "Of course I remember. We'll have to go back there one day." She then spared a glance at a now scowling Harmony and added, "With Harmony with us this time."

And with that, he mother had re-darned her mood that had been momentarily brightened.

About five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Buffy had jumped on the chance to get away from the table, "I'll get it!" There was always a chance that Dawn had showed early and she wasn't alone anymore.

She practically dashed to the front door, still praying it was Dawn. She opened the door, a smile on her face and stopped frozen when she saw who was standing there.

The most drool worthy hunk of man that Buffy had ever seen stood there dressed in all black. His hair was bleached blonde, razor sharp cheekbones and he had the most beautiful blue eyes, finally a scar on his eyebrow. He screamed bad boy. Buffy had found the inspiration of her next painting.

Spike Giles stood outside of the Kendal home, slightly nervous. He had to break up with the annoying little chit and fast. He couldn't stand her bloody whining and that pet name anymore. Fucking Blondie Bear his ass.

A few seconds after he'd rung the doorbell, the door had opened to reveal an angel. She had long golden blonde hair that was pulled back into a blue scarf, wide hazel eyes, bee stung lips and she had a small spot of paint on the tip of her nose.

"Uh hi," she said after a pause, "I'm Buffy, the newest addition to the Kendal household."

Then it hit him. Joyce's daughter which meant that she was Harm's stepsister.

Maybe he shouldn't be to quick to rid himself of her quite so soon after all.

if ya like it, plz do review and make me happy. You want me to be happy right?


	2. Lost

Just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed! I love you all!

* * *

"Oh, hello William," Joyce smiled warmly as Buffy led Mr. British Hottie that had introduced himself as Spike into the dining room, "We just sat down for dinner, care to join us?"

He looked at Buffy briefly before smiling back at Joyce, "Sounds great."

"Blondie Bear!" Harmony greeted her boyfriend, "What are you doing here?"

Spike mentally cringed at her high pitched voice. The voice he was sure could crack glass if she tried.

"Just came to see you luv. I missed you," he lied through his teeth to answer he question.

Harmony beamed at him before throwing Buffy a cross between a warning and a smug look (well that's what Buffy thought the other girl had attempted but there was no way to be sure.)

"Ahh, how sweet," Buffy said sarcastically, Harmony not picking up on this at all.

"I know, my Spikey loves me so much," Harmony smiled happily.

Buffy wanted to gag. How could a girl like Harmony ever be with a guy like that? Oh wait, never mind. Like she already didn't know the answer. She probably put out on the first date therefore she got the really hot guy. Buffy hated girls like that. Maybe she should just sell, give up all of her morals and become a slut. Couldn't be that bad right?

Buffy's eyes rested on Spike.

Hell if it got you guys that looked like that she was game.

Oh come on Buff, she mentally shook her head. He's probably a totally asshole. After Angel you promised yourself no more assholes remember? Uh huh, like she'd really stick to that. They flocked to her. After all, there were only two kinds of men in the world. Pigs and dogs, take your pick girls.

Why the hell was she even having this conversation with herself anyways? He was Harmony's boy toy. It was highly unlikely he'd ever go for Buffy even if he wasn't. Well one thing was for sure.

Life sucked.

* * *

During the rest of the dinner one thing became very clear to Buffy. She just did not belong here at all. She'd been cut off mid-sentence and blatantly ignored. She wasn't used to it and she hated it. With Dad, he'd always divided his attention between her and Dawn evenly and he'd always listened. Always, no ifs and or buts about it. It had been part of his mother/father all in one package thing and he'd done it well. Joyce Summers had clearly lost her touch.

It had been like someone had grabbed onto one of her internal organs and twisted when her mother lit up as Harmony told her about how her cheerleading squad was going to some convention thingy in which her mother spewed out endless compliments and promises to be there no matter what. Her mother hadn't even bothered to promise to come when Buffy had had her work displayed at an actual gallery after she'd been chosen out of thousands of young artists from all over. Patrick had needed her to go to some big charity event. And besides, what was this, Bring It On? Cheerleaders are so passé. Like the world needed more anorexic bimbos jumping up and down and acting as though what they're doing takes talent. That's what pop stars were for. The main purpose of cheerleaders was give pervs alike in the stands something more interesting then the game to gawk at. Thanks, but no thanks.

The someone that was twisting her internal organs had started to rearrange them as her mother and Patrick laughed and touched and all of the things that she'd watched her mother and father do for years. They'd been so in love and then it had just simply fallen apart. No signs, no advanced warning to prepare them for the blow, no nothing. One minute they'd been one big happy family and the next she was stuck in that Pink song "Family Portrait".

Buffy tilted her head to the side, taking in the picture perfect sight of Patrick Kendal, Harmony Kendal and Joyce…Kendal. For the first time since she'd even heard of her mother's engagement, Buffy felt her mother was completely lost to her.

* * *

There were three options for Buffy as far as what to do when she entered her room after dinner. She could:

Go on painting her meadow and act as though everything was a-okay.

Call her dad and beg him to talk mom into letting her move back to LA all while sobbing hysterically.

Or

Pull out the angsty music, her sketch pad, a pencil and draw an equally angsty picture with silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

Well option A was clearly to mature for Buffy so it was out of the question. Anyone who said they'd go with option A was a liar and any psychologist saying that she needed to act like a mature young adult and except change in her life and let new people in could shove their opinion up their ass because it just wasn't going to happen. Not now, not ever.

Option B would work best if she waited until something really bad happened. Sure her father would be swayed instantly by her tears and welcome her back with open arms but it was a little rash for so soon. It was tempting but no.

Option C was always a good way to go. The music and art would either help her out of her new-found depression or pull her in further down into the sinking black hole she was slowly falling down.

Then again there was always the underrated option D: Make voodoo dolls of Harmony and Patrick Kendal and slowly kill them by sticking pins into their body.

Personally, she liked option D the best but sadly C was the best choice.

Buffy had unpacked all of her essentials before dinner, her art supplies, her CD player and CD's and her vintage record player and records. She popped in Jimmy Eat World CD Bleed America, flipped to the title song and plopped down onto her bed that she'd just made up with her cream satin butterfly comforter and a few throw pillows with her sketch pad and started her picture.

Honestly, Spike had been on his way to the bathroom but he'd somehow ended up at Buffy's bedroom door. He wasn't quite sure how it happened but it had. So now here he was staring at the door, unmoving like an idiot.

Angst ridden emo played on the other side of the door. He'd seen how she'd looked at and reacted to the happy family routine and couldn't blame her for being upset. All he'd wanted to do was comfort her, kiss her pouty lips, take off that cute little tank top…bloody hell he'd known of her existence all of an hour and for that hour she'd dominated his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, he finally knocked softly on the door and waited.

"Come in!" came from the other side a few seconds later, giving him permission to enter her room. He let out the breath he'd been holding before entering.

There on her bed, strands of golden hair falling loose from the scarf in her hair and her hazel eyes slightly wet saying she'd been crying was again, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

"Oh, uh hey," she said, sitting up slightly, "What's up?"

"I, uh well I was on my way to the bathroom and…" he trailed off mid-explanation.

A few seconds of awkward silence went by before Buffy spoke again, "You can like go now ya know."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he finally blurted out.

This caused Buffy to raise an eyebrow, "Is this the part where you tell me that it's just gonna get some getting used to? That in the end I'll fit right in here and I'll go on living happily in this suburban wasteland? Well let me tell you something, it is not going to work out like that. I just want to go home and act like I was never forced to be here and watch my mother play perfect mommy to Harmony and perfect wife to Patrick!" She stopped the calm herself, "Just leave me alone."

Spike stood their stunned, "Uh, actually I was going to agree with everything you said but no need now really." He spared a glance at an open box of records before asking, trying to change the subject, "Vinyl?"

"Mmhm," Buffy nodded, "Everything from Bing Crosby to Zeppelin."

"You got any…" Spike started but Buffy cut him off.

"Lemme guess, any British punk circa early sixties to seventies?" Buffy asked with a small smile, "Sex Pistols? The Clash? Ramones? Even the awesomely pre-punk New York Dolls?"

Spike smirked at her. The girl didn't even know him and could read him like a book.

* * *

sorry, I'm a music addict so I made Buffy one too. Hope ya enjoyed! 


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